Nauseous Feelings
by ImNotAPsychopath
Summary: I'm such an evil person for making Sherlock vulnerable. :3 Reviews are love (You guys probably are getting sick of me saying this.)


Nauseous Feelings

7-6-2012

"Sherlock?" John's voice traveled through my ears as my vision swirled around, making me dizzy. "Sherlock, are you all right?"

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head, and feverishly trying to delete useless thoughts that were traveling around in there. "J-John?" I cursed as I stuttered but it was too late to change that to my displeasure. He was going to notice, if he hadn't already, that something was wrong with me and he wasn't going to shut up about it until I was my normal self again.

But just the thought of me becoming my normal self again made me even more nauseous.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?" John looked at me in concern. "Are you sick?"

"I never get sick," I insisted and as I jerked my head up, my head began to pound.

John raised an eyebrow, looking at me in disbelief.

"Shut up," I groaned, still trying to recover from my pounding head.

"I didn't say anything, Sherlock," he replied patiently.

"You're thinking," I snapped, rubbing my forehead. "It's annoying."

John sighed but didn't say anything as he continued to pack the things on the boat. I grimaced, trying to compose myself before I began to speak to the newest client. I didn't want to appear weak.

"Maybe we should put the case on hold," John suggested, turning to look at me once he lugged a huge suitcase into the boat's storage unit. I am still amazed by his strength and how he still treats me so gently. "At least until you get better."

"I'm fine, John," I hissed, regret flashing through me as I realized how unnecessarily harsh I sounded towards him. He was just concerned for my health.

He sighed and turned to get another suitcase on the boat. I wanted to reach out to him, to apologize for being overly harsh, but my pride swallowed my action. I could only watch as he walked away from me, shoulders slightly drooped, and lugged the final suitcase onto the boat.

"Ready to go, Sherlock?" He turned to face me again, eyes filled with concern as he watched me stumble towards the boat, knowing I'd shove him away if he tried to help me.

I nodded, not trusting my voice for once, before following him on board.

This was going to be an interesting trip.

Nausea swirled around my head and stomach making me want nothing more than to crawl into a ball in my sulking place on the couch. That, at the very least, was comfortable. The deck of a splinter waiting to happen was not.

"Sherlock, are you sure you don't want to go lie down? That might help," John said gently. He was being so patient and caring to me and I was returning the favor by being an ass. I know I did this on a regular basis but when I was sick and pitiful, it just made me look all that more of an ass. At least when I was well and could think straight, I had the right since I'm more intelligent.

Obviously karma was paying me back for all those times now, and doing a good job of it. I felt like hell, looked like hell, and I was treating everyone like rubbish. Of course, it really only mattered that I was treating _John_ like rubbish.

"Sherlock?"

"I'm fine, John," I snapped, "How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

He sighed before going into the storage area where our luggage was being held and I watched him walk away, feeling morose again at how quickly I'd lost patience with him. Usually it takes me _at least_ two of his idiotic thought processes to snap at him. Now I was snapping at every word. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

"Sherlock."

John's voice shook me out of my reverie and I turned to face him only to have two pills be shoved in my mouth and down my throat.

I choked and, after a moment, swallowed before glaring at him.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!"

"Your cold is getting worse from your seasickness and so is your temper," John said shortly. "That was a sedative so you'll shut up."

I looked at him in shock, my mouth hanging open. How could John have given me a sedative? How – Wait. I nearly laughed aloud. He had no idea that nearly every single sedative don't work on me. He couldn't –

"Oh, and don't think I don't know about your little sedative trick," John smirked and I glanced at him in surprise as he read my mind. "I called Mycroft ahead of time and asked him which ones would work knowing that you wouldn't listen to me otherwise."

I gaped at him, my mind becoming hazy as I struggled to look at John. Focus, Sherlock, focus. If you just focus then you can –

John sighed in relief and smiled as Sherlock slumped against him, the sedatives finally working. He gently took hold of Sherlock and half- dragged, half- carried him into the storage area where a cot was waiting. John placed Sherlock in the cot before dragging a chair to sit next to it. He watched Sherlock breath heavily before brushing his curly bangs away from his face and kissing his forehead softly.

Sherlock was going to kill him when he woke up but it was worth it to know everyone would have a bit of peace from his furious temper, including Sherlock himself.

John sighed. He didn't know why Sherlock did this to himself. Was it a pride thing? It had to be. There wasn't really another explanation for this behavior.

He leaned back into the chair. Oh well. He was just glad Sherlock wasn't making his cold worse. John hated to see him like this. Sherlock fighting for control over his mind, fighting harshly against the cold and rare seasickness that had struck him, John not being able to help him like he usually could.

John kissed Sherlock's forehead again gently before standing up to leave, shooting a quick glance back at the for once peaceful Sherlock.

I awoke to no motion at all. My vision was sharp and clear like usual, and my other senses were in top notch. I quickly stood up, excited when I didn't stumble or fall, and ran outside to discover John unloading the last of the suitcases into the car that would take us to our client.

I was surprised, but masked it carefully, walking swiftly towards John who was sweating as he helped the crew dock the boat after he'd thrown the last suitcase into the car. I stood by him for a moment, taking in the delicious scent wafting around him and myself. It smelled so… John. I didn't have the time nor the patience to explain it any other way. My mouth watered slightly and I licked my lips despite them being wet as a whistle.

Finally John noticed I was up and his bright and sunny smile took my breath away.

"Hello." He walked to stand right next to me. "Looks like you're doing better now that you had some rest."

"So it would seem," I murmured, looking into his beautiful ever-changing eyes that were currently a warm forest green.

He blushed and looked down at the ground before clearing his throat. "Sherlock, I'm sorry I gave you the sedative. It's just that I knew you wouldn't rest on your own and continue to push yourself despite the fact that you were sick and –"

I cut him off with an especially sweet kiss—if I do say so myself—and he melted into my arms. I held him tightly to me and he wrapped his arms tightly around my neck to deepen the kiss.

After a minute or so, we broke apart purely because of a need for air. His hair was disheveled, eyes bright and sparkling, and face a dusty pink. I'm sure I was in the same condition.

"I forgive you," I said solemnly.

"Y-You do?"

I nodded. "You were merely looking out for my well-being." I kissed his forehead gently. "Thank you."

He smiled before burrowing his face into my chest. "Of course."

I smiled and sighed in content, happy to just hold him for as long as I could.

After all, I'd get my revenge when he was sick and I had to play doctor.

~End~


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